A Professional Relationship
by Steadfast-Bright-Star
Summary: Human AU. Feliks is given a chance to save his failing clothes shop when Toris becomes his business adviser. The two are determined to reverse Feliks's fortunes, but first they must overcome his destructive addiction to shopping. As they work together, they soon find themselves in something far more than a professional relationship. Rated T for eventual LietPol.
1. Chapter 1

'I'm sorry, Mr Łukasiewicz, but I really don't know how to explain it any other way. Your business is in dire trouble – it, and you, are near bankruptcy.' Feliks shifted in his uncomfortable seat. The collar of his formal shirt was itching and his tie was suffocatingly tight. He didn't like suits, but he had a feeling that a sassy little pair of hotpants would not have been appropriate to wear at a meeting with his banker to discuss the future of his ailing business. 'Isn't there anything you can do?' he asked nervously, tucking a stray lock of blond hair behind his ear. The banker, who had introduced himself as Ludwig Beilschmidt, shook his head. 'We've done everything we can. You've had so many extensions on your loans and taken out extra. The only thing I can do is give you six months to break even.' He paused, taking a small card out of his jacket pocket and handing it over to Feliks. 'I suggest that you call this agency. They'll send someone round to help you deal with everything, but I can't make any promises. Your finances are in a terrible state.'

Taking this as a signal that the meeting was over, Feliks stood up, awkwardly taking the proffered card and thanking the banker for his time. On the way out, he felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. His little boutique, Beads and Bows, had only been open for two years but it had been his dream and he loved it like his child. Every night when he'd stayed late in the textiles studio to make his coursework pieces perfect, every wearying internship he'd worked in the cut-throat fashion industry, every torrent of abuse he'd faced from spoilt models… They had all been for this, so that one day he could have his own shop, selling his own designs. He couldn't believe that all that could be gone in six months. As he walked home, he wondered how he could have managed his money so atrociously. It just seemed to be gone within moments of his getting it. He looked at the card and saw that it was the number of a business advice. 'They'd better, like, send someone good,' he muttered to himself before returning it to his pocket. This resolution to do better added a spring to his step and he walked home quickly, eager to get out of his stiff suit.

That evening, he sat nervously on his bed with his phone in his hand and the card laid on the duvet. He was terrified, all his usual sass having disappeared. Steeling himself, he typed in the number and pressed the phone to his ear. 'Hello,' came the prompt reply. 'Kirkland Business Solutions. How may I help you.' Feliks found that his throat was suddenly very dry. 'Umm… My banker said that I should contact you because my shop is, like…' He couldn't finish, but the disembodied voice on the other end of the line seemed to be used to such things. 'Well, do you have a particular time by which you have to improve your business?' Feliks was relieved that he had been asked a question he could answer. 'Yeah, I've got six months to repay all my loans.' He heard a faint scratching as the other person wrote something down. 'Right then, if you give us the name and address of your business, we can have someone there on Monday morning. What time do you open?' 'Half past nine,' said Feliks. 'They'll be there at half past eight then. Goodbye.' The person hung up but Feliks sat motionless, his phone beeping in his ear. He stayed like this for several moments, then finally tossed it onto his bedspread. He felt a tiny shiver of excitement run up his spine as he contemplated the idea that his shop could be saved. He couldn't wait for Monday.

…..

On Monday morning, he arrived at eight o'clock sharp, as he always did. Unlocking the door, he flicked on the lights, hung his coat on the peg behind the counter and began to prepare for another day of not enough customers. He looked fondly around his shop, the walls he had painted himself, the neat racks of clothes that he had slaved for hours to design. He was a committed supporter of the fair wage movement and made sure that all the workers who made his clothes were well paid. 'Maybe that's where all the money's going,' he mused to himself. If it was, he'd have to find another way to save. He looked at the price tags, knowing that they were large and feeling worried – he didn't want to be one of those independent shops that priced themselves out of existence. He went behind the counter, making sure that everything was in order and nervously glancing at the clock from time to time.

At eight-thirty, the door creaked open. Feliks looked up, his stomach lurching with sudden terror. 'Hi,' he said, trying not to sound like a frightened little girl. 'I'm Feliks. I guess you're from the business advice place.' The newcomer nodded. 'Yes, I'm here to help you get things back in order. I'm Toris, by the way.' Feliks was unsure what to do next. Did he offer to show Toris his accounts or was that the kind of thing that he was supposed to be asked? He dropped his gaze, blushing and wringing his hands in nervous embarrassment. Realising that Toris was still standing beside the door, he said, 'You must be cold – come over here. I only turn on one of the heaters before opening – it saves money.' Toris gave him a grateful smile and joined him behind the counter. 'You open at half nine, right?' he asked Feliks, somewhat timidly. Feliks nodded, and he went on. 'So I'll just run through my plan. What I tend to do is let clients do what they normally do for a day while I observe, then we have a meeting to discuss what needs to change, and then I help them to introduce their reforms. Before the shop opens, I'd just like to ask you a few questions about your business.'

He extracted a small notepad from his satchel and flipped it open. 'Ok, firstly, do you own your business?' 'Yes, but I rent the shop itself.' Toris scribbled down his answer. 'Next up, do you employ anyone?' 'No, it's just me.' The interrogation went on for quite a while, and although Toris was scrupulously polite, Feliks couldn't help but feel a bit like a criminal as he admitted to spending rather a lot of money on pointless things like nice gift wrap that was rarely used, scented candles that couldn't be lit because of safety regulations and other things besides. Soon, however, Toris had to put his notepad away – it was time to begin the day. Feliks went to the door to flip the 'closed' sign to 'open.' As he did so, he asked the brunette, 'So what will you, like, do all day?' 'I'll just tuck myself away in a corner, watch how you deal with the customers, what sells, what doesn't. I won't be interfering for today. I'll report my findings to you this evening, after you close.'

The shop had already been open for an hour when the first customer walked in, a young girl with a blonde bob and a hair ribbon. She flipped through the racks of clothes, sighing each time she looked at a price tag and eventually settling for a blue T-shirt that clearly wasn't for her. She carried her purchase to the counter and Feliks popped it in a bag for her. 'Like, have a nice day!' he called out as she left. He glanced over at Toris, who had stationed himself in a corner. He was frowning and noting something in his book. Feliks sighed. It didn't look like whatever he was writing would be complimentary. Another hour passed before his next sale, although a couple of people came and went without buying anything. Feliks felt terribly embarrassed. The shop was a ghost town, and as the day wore on, his profits totted up to just £200, not nearly enough to cover everything he needed. When the day finally ended, he flipped the sign on the door again and turned back to face Toris, who was already looking at him expectantly.

'Do you have somewhere we could sit?' he asked straightaway. Feliks shook his head. 'No, I do all my paperwork at home. I'm on my feet all day here. There's a coffee shop across the road but it's, like, quite expensive and I…' Toris understood immediately. 'Never mind then. We'll just lean on the counter.' As soon as they had done this, he launched straight into his list of Things that Needed to be Changed. 'Ok, Feliks, I managed to get quite a lot written down. Firstly, so many of these expensive things you buy are going to waste. That girl who bought the T-shirt was clearly buying it for someone else, so why didn't you offer to gift-wrap it? You have all that paper, but you don't use it. The first job for you is to make a sign to tell people that gift-wrapping is available. The second is to stop worrying so much about decoration. All these ornaments, all these candles that you can't burn, they all add up and they push the prices up too. If you really want the place to look nice, get cheaper things, and fewer. And get unscented candles. They look just as nice and they're lots cheaper. Also, start advertising. Do you even have a website?'

Feliks shook his head mournfully. He felt like he had been slapped. He bit his lip, trying not to cry. 'I… I never realised how much I was wasting. I never realised that, like, I was so useless with money.' He sniffed and wiped his eyes. Toris looked at him with concern. He hadn't expected to upset him so much. 'Feliks, I'm sorry, but it had to be said. You're a nice person and a really talented designer, but you need to have a little more sense when it comes to things like this. Don't be downcast – starting tomorrow, we'll fix everything. With a bit of luck, we'll meet the six-month target and save Beads and Bows. Ok?' Feliks nodded mournfully. 'Yeah, that's cool. Thanks for, like, showing me all my problems. I just get carried away if I see something nice, see, and I try to pay my factory workers well, so I can't afford to charge really low prices.' Toris smiled. 'Don't worry. I'll help you make cuts where you can,' he said as he walked to the door and pulled it open. 'See you tomorrow!' he called back as he walked out, leaving Feliks alone in the shop.

Feliks got the brush out of his small cupboard and did a quick spot of sweeping, but really there was nothing to be done. Eventually, he put on his coat and left the shop, locking the door as he went. His feelings were a mess. He was glad that he still had a chance to turn his shop around but he was also irritated with himself for having ever needed help in the first place. Talking to Toris had made him feel like a complete idiot, a vain, dumb blond. He squared his shoulders at walked a little straighter. Starting tomorrow, a new Feliks would begin, one perfectly capable of running a shop all by himself.


	2. Chapter 2

As Feliks walked home that evening, he found his newfound sense of purpose wearing off more and more as he approached the high street, where the shops stayed open later. _Come in _they seemed to be saying to him. _You've been so good today. You deserve a little reward, don't you? _'No!' he said aloud, shoving his hands into his pockets and trying to ignore the temptation that surrounded him on all sides. But it was token resistance, the sort he only put up to make himself feel better when he ended up standing at the till, the way he was now, buying yet more clothes he didn't need. All the way home, his now-empty wallet burned a hole in his pocket and the bags bashed against his thigh with every step he took until the pain lost its edge and became a mere irritation. He hated himself for it, knew that it was unhealthy, this compulsive shopping, and yet he couldn't stop himself. Every time he saw something nice, or even something that wasn't particularly nice, he found himself having to buy it. Forget the excuse of factory costs, forget the scented candles – he knew very well that this was where the money was going.

That evening, when he got home, he didn't bother taking his coat off. He had had to choose between having heating and having water when the last bill had come in, so now he was condemned to cold showers and dressing like a polar explorer just so that he wouldn't shiver too hard to fall asleep. He knew the routine by now: go into the bedroom, empty the bags onto the bed, dispose of said bags, place clothing in wardrobe. But today was different. He gathered up his purchases and held them to his chest as he stared mournfully at himself in the mirror. 'I don't even like them,' he whispered, feeling tears rise for the second time that day. 'So why can't I, like, stop? Why?' As he cleared away the unwanted clothing, he found his thoughts returning to Toris, the one who had offered him the briefest glimpse of hope, the one who had given him reason to believe that he might just succeed. Toris, he realised, didn't know anything about his addiction. And, judging by the brunette's angry reaction to some of Feliks's comparatively minor fripperies, he wouldn't be happy to find out.

Thinking about Toris reminded him that he was supposed to be making a gift-wrap available sign. It was simple, the work of a minute. All he needed was some gold pens and coloured paper, but he found that he took him ages because he kept getting up and looking in his wardrobe, as if he expected the hated garments to have disappeared and left his money in their place. When the sign was finished, he stayed sitting at his desk, agonising over whether he should tell Toris about his problem or not. He was, after all, being paid to help him, not tell him off like a child. On the other, Feliks didn't want yet another person judging him, thinking he was weak because he was insecure, because he hid his loneliness and shallowness under expensive clothes. 'I won't tell him tomorrow,' he eventually said to himself. 'I'll do it on Friday, I swear.'

…..

When Friday finally came, Feliks felt horribly nervous about confessing his problem to Toris. The rest of the week had not gone too terribly – he had been surprised by how popular the gift-wrapping service was – but he could tell that Toris was still not impressed. He had been giving out questionnaires to customers to ask them about their shopping experience but hadn't shown them to Feliks when he asked, muttering an excuse about having 'not yet fully analysed the data.' Once the shop had closed, Toris asked him whether they could go to the coffee shop. 'I know it's expensive, but we need to sit down properly. There's quite a lot to discuss.' Feliks agreed reluctantly. He would order a glass of water, nothing more, and pray that Toris didn't expect him to foot the bill.

Once they were seated at a small table near the window, Toris opened up his laptop and angled it so that they could both see the screen. 'Feliks,' he began shyly. Feliks had noticed that he seemed to go from being paralysed with anxiety to lording it over him in a matter of seconds. Maybe he, like Feliks himself, was compensating for his shyness by covering it with something else. Clothes, false confidence - it didn't matter. 'Feliks,' he repeated, and Feliks realised that he had been daydreaming. 'Please. You need to listen.' 'I was, like, listening the whole time!' he protested, trying to cover for himself. Toris ignored him. 'I've been looking at your accounts and, although your profit margins are narrow, and your shop is definitely in the worst trouble I've seen in quite a while, it doesn't explain your own personal poverty. Is there something you haven't told me?' Feliks shifted in his chair, feeling like he was at the bank again. Now was his time to tell the truth.

'Yes. Yes there is, but it's, like a long story. You're not in a hurry, are you?' Toris shook his head mutely and Feliks went on. 'I've always liked shopping – I used to get teased for it at school because I was always asking people to go to town at the weekend and I was one of those teens who queue up for hours when there's a new shop opening. But after I finished uni, I did a few internships to get fashion experience before starting my business, and since I wasn't getting paid, I couldn't, like, afford to go shopping every weekend like I had done before. I thought that it wouldn't matter if I wore the same outfit a few times but soon people started to notice – none of them ever wore the same thing twice. It made me feel really self-conscious, like I wasn't really one of the fashionable people, and I had a really horrible time. As soon as I started earning money, I started buying more clothes to compensate for all the times I'd been humiliated. It got worse over time. It got worse to the point that I couldn't walk past a shop without buying something, even if I didn't need it or like it. It's destroyed my life, this addiction to shopping. It's why I have no spare money and why my shop is failing. All the money that I make should go to putting prices down, but instead it goes to buying those dreadful clothes. I should stop. I need to stop. But I can't.' His story over, Feliks looked down at the table, unwilling to meet Toris's eyes and read what was written there.

After a few moments, he felt a faint pressure on his shoulder and realised that Toris was squeezing it reassuringly. He looked up to see that he was smiling at him. 'I see,' he said softly. 'A lot of people make fun of shopping addiction, or use it as an excuse to buy things they can't afford, but I can spot a genuine case when I see one. How often do you find yourself buying things?' 'I haven't bought anything since Monday,' Feliks replied, 'but that was particularly bad. I tried to stop myself, tried to tell myself that I was undoing all my hard work, but I ended up buying stuff anyway. It's, like, a magnetic force. The shops just pull me in, whether I want to go or not.' Toris looked almost ashamed. 'I wish you'd told me earlier,' he said. 'If I'd known the reason for all this, I'd have gone a bit easier on you. I was bullied myself. I know what it's like.' He gave an uncomfortable laugh. 'I feel really mean now!'

Feliks found that he liked this new side of Toris, this friendly one. He hadn't intended to tell his whole story in such detail but he realised that it was the best thing he could have done. After all, Toris was there to help him, and if they were going to be working together for the next six months, they would have to get on. 'Do you have a lot of customers at the weekend?' Toris asked suddenly, distracting Feliks from his trance once more. 'More than in the week, obviously, but not many. Not enough. I don't think there's ever been a queue at the till.' he said, already sadly imagining the frustrating Saturday he would have, the people who came in to have a chat or shelter from the rain and then left empty-handed. And he got lonely too. He'd never had a great many friends, since people tended to find him annoying, and he would have liked some company. 'Umm, Toris,' he began, 'I know you don't work at the weekends but would you maybe like to come along tomorrow so you can analyse sales figures and… whatever other stuff you do? It's just that I don't really know how to attract more customers at the weekend. I mean, I could pay you and stuff and…' Toris raised a hand, cutting him off. 'I'd love to come,' he said. 'I don't have any plans for the weekend, and it'll be useful for me to see how you do on Saturdays.'

Feliks was delighted, but he was even happier when he heard what Toris said next. 'I've got a bit of a plan as well. If you think it's a good idea, I'd like to pose as someone who works at the shop. People are a lot more honest with shop assistants than they are with a man in a suit with a questionnaire.' 'Ok,' Feliks said with mock seriousness, 'but you'll have to, like, follow my orders – I'll be the boss for the day!' They both laughed, then stood up to leave, each one excited about the coming day.

…

On Saturday, Feliks overslept slightly and had to run all the way to the shop, looking at his phone and cursing every couple of seconds. When he got there, Toris was already standing outside, waiting for him. 'Hey,' Feliks gasped, breathless from his morning's exercise. 'Sorry for keeping you waiting. I slept in accidentally.' He unlocked the door, walking in with Toris following just behind. He reached in his bag for the special gift he had made for Toris. 'I made you a little present to say thanks for coming today.' he said, handing over the folded T-shirt. Toris took it and laughed as he unfolded it and read what was written on it. Feliks had used one of the T-shirts he'd bought and never worn and written 'Toris' and below it 'Customer Assistant' in silver fabric pen. 'You don't have to put it on,' he said, blushing, 'but you can if you want to.' Toris, however, was already pulling it on over his regular clothes and checking the fit in the mirror. 'Perfect.' was his smiling verdict.

As Feliks had predicted, there were only a few customers all day, but his fake customer assistant did a fine job of talking to them, reporting his findings during the long periods when the shop was empty. Feliks wrote down everything he said. It was a long list. It was too quiet – the place needed music. Too expensive – well, he was working on that one. No sale or bargain rack – he'd have a look at that. All in all, he found that Toris had been a huge help to him. He hadn't even noticed half the things people complained about. He said as much to Toris as they were leaving, who blushed at the compliment. 'Now then,' Toris said to him as they prepared to leave. 'Since you're closed tomorrow morning, I want you to have a look at your list and see if there's anything you can change straightaway. If there is, we can start to do whatever it is on Monday. See you!'

He went out, leaving Feliks alone and unable to wipe the huge grin off his face. The day had been much more fun than the usual Saturday, thanks to Toris being there, and he found that he worked better when the two of them were together. Hopefully, all their work would pay off in the end. He looked at his calendar, which had the deadline marked on it in red ink. Just five months and three weeks to go…

…

**Author's Note: Hello dear readers! I hope you've enjoyed the first two chapters, and I promise that there will be a little bit of romance fairly soon! **


	3. Chapter 3

A month had passed since Toris had first come to Feliks's aid, and the two had now settled into a sort of routine. Sometimes, he would be in the shop, others in the coffee shop across the road to type things up on his laptop or going around the other local shops to see if he could pick up any ideas. And every Saturday, he still came and helped out, wearing his special 'Customer Assistant' T-shirt.

That Friday evening, however, Toris said to him, 'Feliks, I won't be able to come tomorrow because it's… kind of my birthday and I'm having a party. Is that ok?' Feliks nodded. 'Oh yeah, sure.' he replied, wondering why he suddenly felt so jealous of whoever was going to the party. Toris was his business adviser, not his friend, he reminded himself. Toris's voice broke into his thoughts. 'Oh, I forgot! I, um…ah… Would you like to come? After you close, I mean, if you have time.' He was babbling, almost overwhelmed with nerves. Feliks was pleasantly surprised, but there was one question still on his mind. 'I'd love to come! But what do you mean that it's 'kind of' your birthday? Do you have to share it with your twin or something?'

Toris coloured violently and looked down at his hands. 'It's a bit like that, yes, but not in the way you think. I was adopted along with two other boys – they're not really my brothers, but they might as well be – so we all celebrate our adoption day instead of our birthdays because we're not exactly sure when our birthdays are.' He looked up at Feliks, trying to judge whether or not it was safe to continue. Some people just closed their minds completely when they found out about his unusual family, and he didn't want to put him off coming to the party. Feliks, however, was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to go on. Toris swallowed and began to speak again. 'So there's me and Eduard and Raivis. Eduard is really shy and just spends a lot of time on his computer. Raivis had a pretty bad time before he was adopted, so he gets scared really easily. He's always shivering and he cries a lot. I'm actually the only one of us who's been able to move out and get a job. The other two still live with Ivan – he's the guy who adopted us. Our parties aren't much. We just have pizza or something and Ivan's sisters come round and make us a cake. If you came, it would liven the place up a bit.'

…..

Feliks couldn't remember the last time he'd gone to a party, still less the last time he'd been specifically invited, rather than just turning up to some open event. In his hand was the bag of presents he'd picked out on his way to the house whose address Toris had written down for him. He hadn't been sure what to buy for them, but had eventually settled on an iTunes gift card for Eduard, a cushion with a cute cat embroidered on it for Raivis and a checked shirt for Toris. He would never tell him, but he thought that Toris was kind of good-looking and the shirt matched his green eyes. Feliks himself was wearing his skinny jeans and a pink shirt with his favourite blue jumper. He had, with great willpower, managed to stop himself from buying anything for himself on his earlier shopping trip, but he knew that that had only been because he was buying things for other people.

When he arrived at the well-kept Victorian house, he rang the doorbell and waited. From inside he could hear a muffled flurry of activity – voices he didn't recognise, footsteps and then Toris saying 'I'll get it – it's Feliks', his voice getting louder as he approached the door. He smiled as he opened it to see Feliks standing there and hugged him, lightly and shyly. 'I'm so glad you could come! Everyone's really keen to meet you!' Feliks stood there uncertainly, unsure whether to return the hug or not, but the moment had passed and he followed Toris into the kitchen. Toris paused at the bottom of the stairs and called up. 'Raivis! Eduard! Feliks is here, so come down and say hello!' There was no reaction. Toris shrugged apologetically. 'They'll be down in a minute. If not, they'll come if Ivan calls them.'

They continued on into the kitchen, where Toris popped his head around the door. 'Hey, Ivan. Feliks is here now.' They went in, where Feliks was surprised to meet one of the tallest men he had ever seen. He was wearing a shirt and trousers but had topped off this fairly normal outfit with a long scarf, despite the heat of the kitchen. 'Hello Feliks,' he said in an incongruously light voice. 'So you're the fabulous fashion designer Toris was telling me about. He says you've become friends.' Feliks's cheeks flamed, but he made himself answer. 'Yes, Toris has been a great help to me. He's, like, really improved my business and I've just paid off the first £5000 of my loan. Well, one of them. And he's so kind to help out on Saturdays.' He stopped himself before he became annoying, but Ivan seemed interested in what he had to say. He turned to Toris. 'Did you call the others?' 'Yeah, but they didn't answer.' Ivan went to the kitchen door. 'I'll get them then. Katyusha and Natalya texted to say they'll be here in ten. Feliks, would you like a drink or anything? We can start eating when everyone's assembled.' Feliks shook his head, feeling somewhat out of place in this family group. 'No thanks, I'm fine,' he mumbled.

A few moments later, Ivan returned to the kitchen with two young men in tow. The slightly taller one of the pair had thick glasses and was listening to his iPod –Feliks guessed that this one was Eduard. The second seemed to be terrified of Feliks, and grabbed the end of Ivan's scarf as if it could protect him. Ivan gently removed the clenched hand from his garment and murmured soothingly to him. 'It's ok, Raivis. This is Feliks, Toris's friend. He won't hurt you. He's just here for the party. So why don't you say hello?' Feliks felt a little awkward, as though he was intruding. He looked helplessly at Toris, who understood his distress and promptly began to make introductions.

'Eduard,' he began. Eduard didn't react until Ivan frowned at him and mimed pulling something out of his ear. Taking the hint, Eduard reluctantly removed one of his earbuds. Toris tried again. 'Eduard, this is Feliks, my current client. His shop's in a bit of trouble, so we're working together to get it back on track. It's like that game you play, you know – the one where you build the town.' Eduard pouted. 'Ivan disabled the upgrades on that.' Toris patted his shoulder in a conciliatory fashion. 'Well yes, you were spending an awful lot of money on it. And isn't it so much more rewarding when you earn the upgrades yourself by levelling up?' At that moment, he seemed to remember his guest. 'So Eduard, aren't you going to say hello to Feliks?' Eduard bit his lip and tapped his thumb against the screen of his iPod. 'Hi,' he eventually managed to say.

Knowing that he was not going to get any more out of his adopted brother, Toris turned his attention to Raivis, who was still trembling in apparent fear. 'Raivis,' he said, in a soothing tone similar to that used by Ivan. 'This is Feliks, remember what Ivan said? He's very nice and he's really good fun as well. You'll like him.' He reached out and gave Raivis's hand a reassuring squeeze. 'Look, he's not scary at all, is he?' Raivis turned to Ivan, as if hoping for rescue. 'Go on,' Ivan urged him, 'say hello.' Raivis looked at his tiny feet. 'Hi Feliks.' he said, then lapsed into silence again. He looked close to tears.

Fortunately, the awkward situation was defused by the noisy arrival of Ivan's two sisters and within moments Feliks found himself wrapped in a bone-crushing hug by Katyusha, the slightly older one. When he was released and able to breathe once more, he introduced himself. 'Ooh, I love boys who do fashion! So cute!' she exclaimed. Toris looked embarrassed. 'Aunt Kitty, please, you're making this weird.' She laughed it off and took it upon herself to introduce Feliks to Natalya, the younger of the two aunts. She was much quieter than Katyusha and seemed very protective of the family, having already embraced Ivan and comforted a tearful Raivis. 'So are you Toris's friend or his… friend?' she asked in a whisper, drawing out the last word long enough to make Feliks uncomfortable. 'I don't, like, know what you mean.' Natalya raised a sceptical eyebrow. 'Oh, but didn't Toris tell you he's…' Toris, unfortunately, had overheard. 'No, I didn't tell him!' he snapped at Natalya, in a rare show of anger. 'It's a professional relationship. I don't go around advertising stuff like that!' He took a deep breath to calm himself. 'Sorry, Feliks. She didn't mean to be rude. She's just very keen for me to get out a bit and make friends.'

Feliks, by now, was secretly wondering whether he could possibly fake an illness or something else that would save him from further excruciating conversations, but decided against it – he didn't want to spoil this friendship. So, hoping that the rest of the party would flow a little more smoothly than the beginning, he took a seat at the kitchen table beside Toris while Ivan served pizza to everyone. Eduard had shoved his earbuds back in, Raivis was sniffling and continued to periodically cast nervous glances at Feliks, Natalya kept giving Feliks and Toris very strange looks and Katyusha bravely tried to get everyone to chat. The rest of the meal passed in the same way, until all the food had been eaten, when Ivan stood up and began to make a short speech:

'Today, everyone, we mark eighteen years since we welcomed Eduard, Toris and Raivis to our family, and remember all the wonderful times we have had together over the years. We also meet Feliks for the first time and hope that it won't be the last. But most of all, this is a birthday party. And on that note…' Ivan bent down and retrieved three neatly wrapped parcels from under the table. He handed them to the three almost-brothers. Feliks also picked up his own bag. 'I've, like, brought some presents too.' he said. Katyusha looked delighted. 'Oh, Feliks! You didn't have to! Oh, that's just so sweet of you!' 'It was nothing,' Feliks replied as he took the gifts out of the bag. 'Ok, Eduard first,' he said, handing over the gift card. Eduard smiled uncertainly as he unwrapped it. 'Thanks,' he muttered, not looking at Feliks as he spoke. 'That's awesome!' Toris enthused, trying to get Eduard to interact a little more. 'You can buy some new games with that, and maybe some of those upgrades you wanted as well!' Feliks picked up the second present. 'Raivis next,' he said as he handed it to him. Raivis hesitantly pulled the paper off and Feliks was both surprised and relieved to see him smile as he examined the cushion. 'Thank you,' he whispered, still nervous. 'I'm going to put it in my room.' 'An excellent choice!' Ivan encouraged him 'It really matches your bedspread.'

With a flourish, Feliks produced the final gift and handed it over to Toris, who smiled gratefully and immediately set about unwrapping it. He gasped a little as he revealed the shirt and held it up for all to see. 'Thank you, Feliks! It's beautiful. I think I'll wear it tomorrow.' Katyusha, Natalya and Ivan all began to praise Feliks for his excellent gift-choosing skills and gave him first choice when the slices of cake were handed out. Feliks couldn't stop grinning. It had been so long since he had felt like part of anything and here he was, being treated like a member of the family.

When it was finally time for Feliks to go, they all came to the door to wish him goodbye, even Eduard and Raivis, although they huddled nervously in the doorway. Katyusha gave him an unexpected kiss on the cheek and Toris hugged him again, a little more firmly than before. 'See you on Monday!' they called to each other as Feliks walked down the garden path. As soon as the door closed, Feliks punched the air in silent triumph. Toris was his friend! But what on Earth had Natalya been saying earlier, before Toris intervened?...

...

**Author's Note: Hello readers! I'm sorry this chapter wasn't particularly about the shop, but I really wanted to introduce the Soviet family (and make Russia into a nice guy). I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you keep reading and reviewing!**

**PS: I think we all know what Natalya was hinting at…**


	4. Chapter 4

'So you went shopping again,' Toris deduced, looking at Feliks's new outfit. He sighed and shook his head. 'You just can't stop yourself, can you?' His voice took on a mocking tone. 'Poor little Feliks, he just can't help buying new things. Never mind that he's run his business into the ground. But it's not your fault, is it? No, you've got a _serious problem_.' Feliks was startled by Toris's sudden fury. It was the Wednesday evening after the party - they were preparing to leave and he had begun to hope that Toris wouldn't notice his latest additions to his wardrobe. He'd been weak, he knew that, but after a long and dispiriting day of hardly any customers, the lure of a bit of comfort shopping had been too strong to resist.

'I know, I know,' he mumbled, staring at a point on the ceiling to avoid meeting Toris's eyes. 'But I was really tired and I'd had a really bad time that day and…' He stopped abruptly. Toris was removing his suit jacket and loosening his tie. 'Oh, you had a bad day? Well, I'll show you what a bad day looks like.' He pulled off his shirt and turned his back so that Feliks could see the ladder of crusted scars running all the way up, marring the perfect skin. They looked like they had been put there with some sort of whip, and with considerable force. After a moment, he turned back to face Feliks once more. 'That's what I used to get if it was a 'bad day'. That's what my father used to do to me before I was adopted. It's the same for the other two. Ask Eduard why he only feels safe in his virtual world. Ask Raivis why he's always scared, why he thinks everyone wants to hurt him. Ask me why I can't even look at a bottle of alcohol without remembering the end of the belt against my back.'

When his tirade was finished, his face was red and his fingers were clumsy as he struggled into his shirt and tie. Feliks felt like he should say something, anything. 'Toris, I-I'm so sorry.' Toris cut him off. 'Don't feel sorry for me,' he said glacially. 'Feel ashamed of yourself.' With that, he turned on his heel and marched out of the shop, slamming the door behind him and setting the little bell ringing manically for a few moments. When it eventually stopped, the only sound was Feliks's shocked, shallow breathing. He stood there for a few moments, genuinely ashamed and angry at his own display of weakness. Most of all, he was devastated that his nascent friendship with Toris had been destroyed. 'I always do this!' he said aloud. 'Am I really such a bimbo? Am I really that shallow?' He looked around, as though expecting the empty shop or darkening street to answer. Finally, he gathered himself, put on his coat and left, knowing that he would get no sleep that night.

…..

The following morning, Feliks stood alone behind the counter, unsure of whether or not Toris would come. He had been so humbled by the previous evening that he had filled two large bin bags with superfluous clothing and dropped them at the charity shop on his way to work, but he feared that such a gesture might have come too late. 'I really thought we were friends.' he said sadly to himself as he folded the wrapping paper with his nimble fingers, trying to distract his mind from its fruitless speculations on what might happen that day. He was still engaged in this task when Toris came in, dressed in his usual suit and at the usual time. Feliks was unable to hide his joy. 'You came!' he cried out, his face split by a huge smile. Toris pinned him with an icy glare. 'Of course I did. I'm paid to come. I'm your business adviser, remember? Or did you think I just came here to hang out? Now, I think I'll go across the road today. I need to work on some accounts.' Feliks was left speechless, and in no doubt that he had not been forgiven. Toris left without another word, and Feliks decided to carry on with the paper. But he couldn't bring himself to concentrate. His hands shook so badly that he tore one of the sheets.

Over the course of the day, he agonised over how to apologise. An apology was due – even he, with his limited social skills, knew that – but he had no idea how to go about it. His first attempt at saying sorry had been thrown back in his face with well-deserved contempt, so now he would have to do something a little more sincere. Could he buy him a gift? No, because his habit of throwing money was the reason he'd needed business advice in the first place. Write him a letter? No, that would make him look cowardly, like he couldn't talk to him. The only real solution, he reluctantly concluded, was to speak to Toris and hope that he would listen. He watched the hands of the clock make their tortuously slow journey to six o'clock and periodically looked across the road, where he could see Toris at a small table by the window, surrounded by papers and rapidly typing on his laptop. It was impossible for Feliks to guess his mood, and a new fear entered his mind – what if Toris just went home at the end of the day without dropping into the shop first? The image of the horrific scars rose unbidden in Feliks's mind and he felt a wave of self-loathing. Who was he to be defeated by a narcissistic obsession with shopping when Toris had endured far, far worse and ended up a much stronger person than him?

When closing time finally ticked around, Feliks had only a vague idea of what he was going to say and grimly realised that he would just have to make it up on the spot. He saw Toris stand up, gather his things and leave the coffee shop, then watched him as he walked over to Beads and Bows. As he entered, Feliks immediately knew from his expression that he had not yet been forgiven. 'Toris,' he said, nervously. 'What?' Toris seemed impatient with him. 'Um… I just wanted to say sorry. Properly this time. I know I'm weak and that's bad enough, but I never realised how strong you were until I saw your scars yesterday. I want to apologise for seeming insensitive, for acting like shopping addiction is some huge problem. Well, it is for me, but only because I've never had any real problems. You made me realise that I need to change. Really change. So this morning I took all the awful clothes I bought because I was too weak to resist and I gave them all to charity. I only kept the ones I really need. So I'm sorry for wasting all that money and I'm sorry for making my trivial problems seem important. I just want to be your friend again.'

Toris was silent for a moment, lost in thought. Feliks was terrified that his apology had seemed insincere or just made things worse, but his fears were allayed when Toris spoke again. 'I'm sorry too. I got too angry yesterday when you weren't to know what had gone on. You're not nasty, Feliks, and I'm glad you've begun to overcome your problem. I do still want to be your friend. Everyone loved you at the party. They wouldn't stop talking about you after you left and even Raivis wants to see you again. Yesterday I was just frustrated because I didn't want you to be undoing all our hard work. We make a good team, don't we?' He smiled shyly and stretched out his arms. Feliks took the hint and let himself be hugged, returning it this time. When they broke apart, Toris seemed unwilling to let him go. They parted on much better terms than they had the previous evening, each understanding the other a little better.

….

'To Feliks and Toris, and to their continuing business success!' Ivan led the toast and the others followed suit, raising their glasses and intoning 'Feliks and Toris.' The unconventional family group had gone out to dinner to celebrate a very successful meeting with the banker, during which Feliks had found out that his debt had been quite significantly reduced in six weeks and that he showed potential to meet his target. He'd gone alone, as Toris was at his own meeting to discuss how well the 'client', ie Feliks, was doing.

The toast over, the seven of them looked down eagerly at their menus. The restaurant was quite loud and busy and although Raivis had been a little afraid when they came in, he had calmed down after Ivan had taken him to one side and reassured him that everything was safe. Now he just looked nervous, occasionally jumping if a plate smashed or someone on another table laughed a little too loudly. Eduard was listening to his ever-present iPod, staring blankly ahead and not reacting to anything. Toris nudged Feliks. 'What are you having?' Feliks studied his menu. 'Ooh… It'll have to be the bacon burger. I haven't eaten anything decent in such a long time.' Toris decided that he would have the same.

The food, when it came, was delicious. Raivis had tensed up when the waiter came, whispering his order into Ivan's ear and refusing to speak for himself, drawing some curious looks, but otherwise things were going well. Eduard, his hands accustomed to tapping on keyboards, couldn't open his lemonade bottle, so Ivan did it for him and then took a swig, playfully calling it his 'fee'. Katyusha put her arm around Raivis every time he became startled and the whole group had a wonderful time. Feliks felt privileged to have been accepted so quickly and so wholeheartedly and kept glancing over at Toris as if to say 'is this real?' He couldn't believe how much his life had changed since meeting him. He was wearing his birthday shirt and Feliks noted, with a self-congratulatory air, how well it suited him. 'Are you having a good time?' Toris whispered to him. 'The best!' he replied.

About halfway through the meal, Natalya, who was sitting on Toris's other side, poked him in the ribs. 'Have you told him yet?' Feliks began to eavesdrop, intrigued. 'No,' came Toris's terse reply. 'You should,' she urged him. 'He won't judge you for it. He's probably already guessed.' Toris sighed deeply. 'I don't see why it's necessary but if it stops you pestering me, I'll tell him.' Feliks could no longer contain his curiosity. 'Tell me what?' he asked, as though he was about to hear a piece of salacious gossip. Toris sighed again, then turned to him. 'Natalya seems to think that I should tell you that I'm… gay.' Feliks wasn't sure how to react. He hadn't, as Natalya had seemed to think, already guessed. 'Oh, right. Me too. It's, like, no big deal, yeah?' Both of them blushed deeply and returned to their food, no longer talking. Ivan, who had overheard, gave Natalya a death glare and the conversation around the table fizzled out.

The atmosphere picked up towards the end but Feliks got the impression that something had shifted between him and Toris and he hoped that their mutual revelation wouldn't have too much of an effect on their friendship. When the time came to leave, they muttered an awkward goodbye and went their separate ways. Feliks wasn't sure whether he should dread the following Monday or be excited…

….

**Author's Note: So THAT'S what Natalya was hinting at! (Like it was really a surprise). I just love writing about the Soviet family so much! There might just be the beginnings of a little LietPol romance in the next chapter too… Hope you enjoyed, and that you keep reading and reviewing!**


	5. Chapter 5

'Feliks, what are you – oh God I'm falling!' Toris toppled off the ladder and landed in an untidy heap on the floor. It was two weeks after their awkward revelation and the two were still carefully ignoring the subject as they painted the ceiling to brighten the shop up a bit. Feliks was meant to be holding the ladder, but he was not doing it very well. He looked down at the crumpled Toris. 'Are you, like, ok?' he asked, fearing that he had caused serious injury. Fortunately, his friend was able to sit up. 'Yeah, I'm fine – no thanks to you! But you'll have to help me up.' Feliks extended his hand and tried not to blush as Toris took it and hauled himself up. He couldn't help but notice how soft and smooth it was and immediately cursed himself for thinking that, remembering that their discovery was not supposed to affect their friendship. He'd been thinking, and trying not to think, about how cute and clever and funny and well… attractive Toris was for two weeks.

'I'm not going back up there!' Toris announced firmly, once he was back on his feet. 'I don't trust you anymore.' he added jokingly. 'You're out to kill me, aren't you?' Feliks laughed 'Foiled! Well, if you don't want to go back up, I will. This next bit needs an artist's touch, anyway.' With that, he mounted the ladder, clutching a fine brush in his free hand. Already, his artistic mind was envisaging a pattern like lace over one corner, over in that other one a collection of coloured stars – and maybe a heart as a centrepiece? Yes, a heart, that would be nice. He shouted down to Toris. 'I'll take, like, an hour. Will you be alright holding on for that long?' Toris raised an eyebrow. 'I don't recall this being in my contract!' he said, in a mock-angry voice. Really, he loved watching Feliks work, loved seeing beautiful things take shape under his talented fingers.

As Feliks painted, a crazy idea came into his mind, one that he tried to push away but that kept returning, a little more insistent and fully-formed each time. _It's stupid_, he thought. _There's no way he's interested. I've only known him for two months. If I do this and he's not interested, he'll be embarrassed and I'll look ridiculous_. And yet, the more he thought about it, the more he realised that it could be his chance. He'd never had much luck with relationships but Toris seemed to really like him – or was that just his imagination, combined with the fact that he desperately wanted Toris to like him? He bit his lip, unsure what to do, his mind racing with all the potential reactions to his little idea. In the end, it seemed as though his heart decided for him. Without really knowing what he was doing, he found himself putting his brush into the bucket of black paint and raising it to the freshly-painted heart on the ceiling. Still not entirely aware, he found himself daubing two letters in the middle of the heart – T and F. _WHAT DID YOU DO? _screamed his inner voice as he turned nervously to see what Toris thought.

'Oh my God! Feliks, do you – is that – are you – is that us?' he managed to splutter out, raising his hands to his mouth in a gesture of shock. Feliks couldn't tell whether it was the good kind of shock or not. 'Do you want it to be?' he asked, his heart racing with the fear that he had horrendously misjudged his act. He climbed down from the ladder that Toris was no longer holding, wondering what he could say if he had indeed done something terribly stupid. 'Yes, yes I do want it to be us! But why, Feliks? Why would you choose me? You're beautiful, funny, you've got an amazing talent. You could have anyone you wanted. So why me?' Feliks hugged him tightly. 'Why not you? You're so clever, so kind. You've helped my business so much and you've made me feel part of your family. I've never known anyone who cared that much. And you're the strongest person I've ever met. The things you've been through… My God! It just amazes me that you managed to make such a life for yourself.'

Toris was overwhelmed. 'My last boyfriend was nothing like you. He seemed nice and I trusted him, but when I showed him my scars, he left. He didn't want anything do with someone so damaged.' Feliks was horrified. He couldn't believe that anyone would ever treat Toris in that way, that anyone would ever be so cruel to him. He stroked his back, feeling the raised strips of flesh. 'You're not damaged, my love. Don't let anyone ever tell you that. Every one of your scars adds to your beauty because each one shows how strong you are. Each one represents another obstacle you overcame. They are your story and a testament to your bravery, and your old boyfriend, whoever he was, was a fool for not seeing that.' Toris began to weep softly, unsure of how to respond to such gentleness, such reassurance that he was wanted. 'I love the way you say things,' he said, 'the way you make something terrible like my scars sound like it's something precious. Maybe you should have been a writer.' Feliks laughed. 'If I was a writer, I'd have even less money! And I'd never have met you.' he added in a softer voice. They smiled at each other then, as though trying to make sure that they weren't dreaming. And then, though there was no way of knowing who started it, nor of knowing who broke away first, they shared their first kiss in the empty shop that had brought them together, under the heart on which their love was permanently marked.

…..

Feliks couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such a heady, potent mix of excitement and terror as he prepared for his first 'official' date with Toris. They had decided to splash out and go somewhere really nice – Ivan had been so delighted at the news that he was paying – and so Feliks was struggling into the uncomfortable suit that he'd last worn to his fateful meeting at the bank. He fought to get his tie into a decent knot so that he didn't look like some teenager bunking off school and then wondered what the purpose of cufflinks could possibly be, other than to torment him. He'd texted Toris earlier to complain about the things he did for him but his only response was to say that Feliks was the fashion designer, not him, and if he could manage to put a suit on every day then so could Feliks.

Eventually, he managed to get all the components of his suit on and look more or less smart. He looked at his phone and saw that it was almost time to leave if he wanted to get the express train. After a quick look in the mirror to make sure that everything was ok, he went out, looking forward to what he hoped would be a very successful evening.

When he arrived at the restaurant, Toris was already there at their table. Feliks waved to him and went over. Toris kissed his cheek as he bent down to say hi, making both of them giggle. As they decided what to eat, Feliks was struck by a memory. 'Hey, Toris' he said mischievously. 'Remember the last time we were in a restaurant?' Toris looked bewildered for a moment, then blushed deeply as he remembered. 'Oh God, that was horrible! Natalya was just so desperate for me to get a boyfriend. She meant well, but she wasn't exactly subtle about it. We had the most awkward drive home you can imagine. Ivan was annoyed because she was pressuring us and she said she was just 'encouraging' me. In the end, Raivis got upset because everyone was arguing and that shut them up a bit. And now she thinks that she was the one who brought us together!' They both laughed grimly at the shared memory.

They soon ended up chatting about how they'd ended up in their respective professions. Feliks felt a little foolish telling his story, worried it would make him seem shallow. 'There's not, like, very much to it. I've always liked clothes and drawing so I guess it was kind of natural for me to do something that combined the two. I wanted my own shop because I think the fashion industry can be very… nasty, very merciless.' Toris couldn't help adding that it might have helped if he'd had a few maths skills thrown into the mix. Feliks pretended to be offended. 'Alright then, Mr Business Genius. How did you end up helping failures like me?' Toris sighed. 'This will make me sound quite pathetic, but before I was adopted my dad would always say how I was useless and no good to anyone. That feeling never really left me, even long after my dad was gone from my life, so I decided I wanted to do something useful. I wasn't much good at anything besides maths, so I thought that if I became a business adviser I could help people improve their lives. And I think I have.' he concluded, taking Feliks's hand across the table. 'You most certainly have.' he agreed.

Shortly after their food arrived, however, the evening took a turn for the worse. The conversation at a nearby table had been getting steadily louder for some time and they began to overhear snippets of it. They didn't like what they heard. 'Disgusting, shouldn't be allowed… Shocking, just out in public like that… Shameful.' Toris looked very uncomfortable. 'Do you think they're talking about us?' he whispered nervously. Feliks felt himself getting angry. Upsetting Toris was something that just didn't happen on his watch. He squeezed the brunette's hand comfortingly. 'I don't know, honey. If they are, I'll sort them out.' They listened again and the more they heard, the more certain Feliks became that the vitriolic comments concerned him and Toris. 'Not right, just not right… Decent, upstanding people out for an evening and we have to see _that_… They should be thrown out.' At this, Feliks could contain himself no longer. Emboldened by the fact that people were shooting disapproving glances at the noisy table, he got up. 'What are you doing?' hissed Toris, mortified. Feliks didn't answer and walked right over to where the obnoxious speaker was holding court. People sometimes made fun of him for his casual speech, but the fashion industry had taught him to aim his words like missiles when necessary, and he was ready to take down this pompous idiot. 'So, I understand you've got some sort of issue with me,' he began in a reasonable voice, giving the man a chance to apologise. He did not take it. 'Yes, I do. My friends and I are trying to have a nice meal in a high quality restaurant and instead we have to see you two behaving in a frankly disgusting manner.'

Feliks realised that it was time to bring out the big guns. 'It's not illegal, and we're not doing anything you can't do in public. Enjoying a date isn't a crime, but I believe discrimination on the grounds of sexuality is. If you have anything further to say, come over to me and my boyfriend and say it to our faces.' He turned on his heel without giving the dumbstruck man a second glance. As he walked back to his seat, people began to applaud and Toris jumped up and flung his arms around him. 'Oh Feliks! I'm so proud of the way you stood up for us. You're so brave.' Feliks returned the embrace. 'Not as brave as you yet, my love, but I'm getting there.'

After repeated requests from several customers, the offending group were thrown out, leaving Feliks and Toris to enjoy the remainder of their meal in peace. People kept coming up to Feliks and congratulating him and when they left the manager himself praised the two of them. They parted at the train station, as they were going different ways and as they said goodbye, Toris whispered in his ear, 'my hero.'

…..

**Author's Note: I promised romance, didn't I? And here's a whole chapter of romantic fluff and big, brave Feliks. Hope you enjoyed! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry that there was no update yesterday – I had a teeny little bit of writers' block. Also, updates over the next couple of weeks might be a bit erratic because I'm going on holiday on Wednesday, so I apologise in advance. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!**

…..

Feliks was now three months into his six-month grace period to save his shop and he and Toris had been dating for a month. However, Toris was busy on this particular Saturday night and so Feliks was at home, circling his favourite items in fashion magazines and eating strawberry ice cream out of the tub. It was coming up to eleven o'clock, and the ice cream tub was nearly empty, when his phone rang. He frowned as he picked it up. Who could it possibly be at this time of night?

'Hello, this is Police Sergeant Alfred Jones. Are you Feliks Łukasiewicz?' the caller asked. 'Yes, that's me,' Feliks replied, feeling nervous. 'Is there a problem?' There was a brief silence, then the policeman spoke again. 'I'm afraid so. Your shop has been broken into, and there's quite a lot of damage. I suggest that you come right now. Goodbye.' The policeman hung up, leaving Feliks alone to try to process his thoughts. He was in shock, unable to believe that the call had really just taken place, that his shop had really just been broken into. With shaking hands, he picked up his phone again. 'Hey, Toris,' he began as soon as Toris picked up. 'You need to come to the shop, like, now.' Toris had registered the panic in his voice. 'What's happened?' Feliks took a deep breath. 'I just got a call from the police. Someone's broken into the shop.' 'I'll be there as soon as I can.' Toris said firmly, without a trace of his usual hesitancy.

On his walk to the shop, Feliks had mentally prepared himself for the worst, but it was still an awful shock to see the scale of the damage. The large window had been smashed completely, spilling greenish shards of glass all over the pavement. Clothes that he had spent countless hours designing were strewn all over the floor, getting wet and dirty from the rain that was blowing in through the newly open front. Almost the only thing that had been left intact was the ceiling. It was like a bombsite, his life's work lying in tatters all around. Slowly, every step weighted with misery, he walked towards the shop itself. The American policeman who had called him was there, inspecting the area and taking notes. He looked up as Feliks approached. 'I'm so sorry about this. If it's any consolation, we think that this was a random attack – you weren't specifically targeted.' Feliks, however, was inconsolable. 'I don't, like, understand! They didn't even steal anything. They just made a mess.' The policeman nodded sadly. 'Yes, unfortunately that does happen sometimes. Some people just enjoy being destructive.'

At that moment, Toris came sprinting up, a little out of breath. He skidded to a halt when he saw the wreckage of the shop. 'Oh my God!' was all he could say in his horrified state. At the sight of him, Feliks began to cry. Toris immediately came up and put his arms around him, kissing the top of his blond head. 'Poor Feliks,' he said, trying to comfort him. The distraught Feliks buried himself deeper into the embrace, not wanting to look at his shop again. 'It's a disaster!' he wailed. 'This is going to cost, like, thousands of pounds to repair. I might as well just give up and get some other job, pay my debts that way.' Toris held him tightly, letting him cry, knowing that there was nothing he could say at that moment to make it better. His mathematical mind was buzzing, trying to estimate the cost of the repairs, trying to figure out how they would pay when Feliks was still £50000 in debt. All he could do was stroke his sobbing boyfriend's hair and let him lean against his chest.

Eventually, Feliks straightened up, sniffed and wiped his eyes. 'I guess we've got a bit of tidying up to do,' he said. He tried to smile but failed, his face crumpling again as he fought back a second wave of tears. Judging that it was safe to return, the policeman walked back over to them. 'Excuse me,' he said to Toris. 'Do you work here too?' Toris bit his lip, unsure how to answer. 'Not exactly. Basically, the shop is in quite considerable financial trouble and I'm Feliks's business adviser. Well, I was – still am, but now I'm also…' The policeman cut him off to spare him further embarrassment. 'I understand. Since this was almost certainly not specifically targeted, I don't need to ask you any more questions – unless you did have any rivals, which, on account of the whole debt thing, I find unlikely.' Toris shook his head. 'No, we never had any competition.' The policeman shrugged. 'Well, there's not much more I can do until morning. Tomorrow we'll start our investigation and appeal for information.' He got some crime scene tape out of his bag. 'For now, all I can do is stay and guard the place. I suggest that you two go home and get some sleep. Come back in the morning when you're not so tired.'

They followed his advice and left, walking slowly and silently, neither one knowing what to say to the other. Once they turned the corner, Toris glanced at his watch and stopped abruptly, cursing. 'What is it?' Feliks asked. 'I've missed the last train. I'll never get home now. Do you think I could maybe stay at your place?' Feliks realised that Toris had never actually visited his flat. 'Ok, but I don't have heating, so you'll have to sleep with your coat on if you don't want to freeze to death.' Toris looked shocked. 'You don't have heating? Can you not afford it?' 'Not right now, no. It's not so bad once you get used to it though.' They fell silent once again and Feliks began to worry about what Toris would think of him once he saw his flat. It was the smallest, cheapest one available, with a tiny bedroom, kitchen and bathroom, all interconnected. He had no living room and there was only one window.

When they arrived at the entrance to the block of flats, Feliks led the way up the narrow staircase, navigating by the weak lights in the hall. He paused outside his door. 'Umm… Just so you know, it's not much. My flat, I mean. Don't be expecting anything.' Toris just smiled. 'I don't mind. Mine's pretty small too.' Feliks put the key into the door and they went in. Once they were inside he realised, far too late, that there was nowhere for Toris to sleep. 'I- I'm –This is kind of awkward but I don't, like, have a spare room. I- I can sleep on the floor or something. It's no problem but… Yeah, I'm sorry.' He blushed and looked down. Toris put an arm around his waist. 'We can share. For warmth you know, like penguins. It really is quite cold in here.' Feliks was startled. 'You don't mind?' Toris ruffled his hair. 'Of course I don't mind. You're my boyfriend, remember?' Feliks was relieved. 'Well, in that case…'

…..

The next morning, Feliks woke up warm for the first time in months. Toris had been awake before him and hugged him. 'Good morning, gorgeous,' he said softly, playfully kissing the tip of his nose and nearly pushing Feliks out of the narrow bed in the process. With two of them, both bundled up in thick coats to keep out the chill, there had hardly been a spare inch to move around and Feliks, who liked to sprawl out, had been forced to lie on his back and keep his limbs to himself. Not that he had minded, since he had a personal heater beside him. The events of the previous night came rushing back to him and he whispered to Toris, 'When are we going to go to the shop?' Toris propped himself up on his elbows so that he was looking down on Feliks. 'Any time you want. I was just thinking about how it might be possible to put up some boards over the broken window, clean up inside a bit and then continue as normal. We might actually get a few more customers that way, you know - if they see us carrying on despite difficult circumstances. What do you say?' Feliks squealed in delight and wrapped his arms around Toris's neck. Unfortunately, there was not enough space to do so and the two of them ended up falling of the bed and landing on the floor. Once they had recovered themselves, Feliks said, 'That's, like, a great idea! You really are a business genius! Let's go now!' Toris smiled indulgently and kissed the overexcited blond. When they parted, he told him that they couldn't go right away, but that they would have to eat breakfast and change their clothes first.

Feliks soon got over his disappointment at being delayed when Toris managed to make a delicious breakfast from various disgusting 'economy' supermarket products. After sitting down to eat, he couldn't help asking Feliks what he normally ate. 'Usually strawberry ice cream. Or bagels.' was his reply. 'I'm a bit fussy and none of this cheap stuff tastes nice anyway.' Toris laughed and pinched his cheek. 'Ice cream and bagels? It's a miracle you're not fat! Or maybe it all just goes to your brain…' Feliks giggled and slapped his hand away and the meal continued in good spirits. When it was time to go, however, all the wind went out of Feliks's sails. He felt himself tearing up again and clung to Toris. 'I'm scared,' he confessed. 'What if we can't get everything back to normal? This is my absolute last chance to pay everything back. If I can't do it, all our work will have been for nothing.' Toris realised that there was no point offering words of empty comfort. 'I know, love, but we just have to see how it goes.' He took Feliks by the hand and together they headed for the shop.

When they arrived, they saw that the front had already been boarded up and the American policeman had been replaced by a serious, bespectacled Swedish one who explained that it was unlikely that anyone would be caught because all the shops in the street were small and none had CCTV. 'Have you decided on what you're going to do now?' he asked him. Feliks nodded enthusiastically. 'Yes, it's going to be business as usual once we've cleaned up.' The policeman gave a slight smile. 'That's a very bold decision. Good luck.' He got into his car and drove away, leaving Feliks and Toris standing there. They decided to go inside and see what could be done with the place.

Some of the clothes had remained on the racks; others had fallen to the floor but were in good enough condition to be hung up again. Some had to be thrown away but once all of them had been dealt with, Feliks was pleasantly surprised at how many had survived. He turned his attention to the counter, which was missing its cash register and expensive wrapping paper and had also been defaced with what appeared to be an axe, leaving raw gashes of wood showing through the paintwork. Toris had also noticed the absence of the cash register, but it didn't bother him as much as it did Feliks. 'Looks like I'll have to use my maths brain today!' he said with a laugh as he stationed himself behind the counter, ready to begin the day's work.

His prediction turned out to be correct. Within about half an hour of their opening, their first customers began to arrive, asking 'what happened here?' Feliks would put on his best sad face and explain that the shop had been broken into by thugs who just wanted to see honest, hardworking people suffer and soon the customers would be moved into parting with some money. During one of their empty periods, Toris's phone rang. 'Hey? Oh, hello Ivan… You did?... No, don't worry… You can if you want to… As long as he doesn't get upset… Ok, bye.' As soon as he hung up, Feliks gave him a quizzical look. 'That was Ivan,' Toris explained. 'He just heard on the radio that we were broken into. He's none too pleased that I didn't tell him myself, but he says he'll drop by with Raivis and Eduard in about an hour to see how we're getting on.' Feliks smiled. 'I hope he'll be impressed.'

As promised, the trio arrived almost precisely an hour after Ivan's call. The tall man had to duck into the doorway as he entered with Eduard and Raivis in his wake. 'Hey Feliks, hey Toris. You're doing a great job! I can't believe I've never visited before now.' He peered over at one of the accessory racks. 'I may have to treat myself to a new scarf. Raivis tore my last one.' Toris raised an eyebrow and Feliks noticed that Ivan was indeed without his customary garment. 'He got scared on Bonfire Night last week and ripped the end right off when a rocket went off.' He stroked his almost-son's cheek affectionately. 'He may not look it, but Raivis is pretty strong!' Ah, yes – Bonfire Night. Feliks remembered how he and Toris had gone to watch a display, only to almost miss the grand finale because they were kissing at the time. Ivan did buy a scarf that was almost identical to the old one. Eduard asked Feliks if he sold earbuds and was very disappointed when he said no. Raivis didn't buy anything but seemed to enjoy looking at everything and he no longer seemed nervous of Feliks.

When the group finally left, Feliks rubbed his growling stomach. 'I'm starving! Do you fancy lunch? We could close early – it's Sunday, all the shops do.' Toris looked up from his calculations of the day's takings, which he'd had to do with pencil and paper. 'I'd love some food,' he replied. 'How about that place around the corner? I hear they do excellent bagels, and maybe strawberry ice cream too!' Feliks rolled his eyes and grabbed Toris's hand. 'Sounds great!' he said sarcastically as he dragged him to the door. 'But seriously, I'm really hungry.' They both laughed and began to walk down the street, in search of somewhere with a slightly more varied menu.


	7. Chapter 7

'Well, as you can see, your repairs last month came at quite a considerable cost. I wouldn't say that it undid all your work, but it certainly put a dent in it. As you are aware, you have only two months left to repay all your debts and so I would strongly recommend that you have a 'Plan B', so to speak, should the worst come to the worst.' The banker closed his folder with a severe click and stood up, signalling to Feliks that there was no more to discuss. He rose uncertainly, feeling nauseous and suddenly very tired. He knew very well that he had already had four months of his six-month period, but the meeting had really hammered home the idea that he might not make it. The new window and counter had been eminently necessary but also expensive and they had forced him to close for two days while the work was going on. He said goodbye in a constricted little-girl voice then walked out, already reaching for his phone in order to tell Toris the worrying news.

He answered on the first ring, having clearly been waiting anxiously for the result. 'Hey Feliks, how did it go?' Feliks steeled himself to deliver the message. 'Not well. He said… He said we might not manage to meet our target. He said I should have some other plan lined up.' He was unable to go on, not wanting to break down in public. 'How about you come over?' Toris said at length. 'You need to relax a bit. We can get pizza or something and talk about everything then.' It seemed like a good idea, so Feliks agreed, crossing the road to catch the bus to Toris's flat. He wasn't jealous exactly, but he wouldn't have minded living somewhere like Toris's, with proper rooms and heating. Normally, he loved visiting but today he was nervous, wondering about what he was going to say and how Toris was going to reply.

The bus journey was over too quickly and left him no time to plan his little speech. He mounted the stairs to Toris's flat slowly, trying to buy a few extra seconds. In the end, he gave up, deciding that he would just have to see what direction the conversation took. Toris opened the door almost as soon as he knocked and hugged him tightly straightaway, still standing in the doorway. 'Oh, my poor Feliks,' he said softly. 'What are we going to do with you?' As soon as they were inside, Feliks pulled off the hated jacket and tie and untucked his shirt. 'I honestly don't know how you manage to wear a suit every day.' he said to Toris in an attempt to lighten the mood. Toris shrugged. 'I couldn't wear anything else. It makes me feel professional. People respect men in suits, and it's nice to be respected. Useful and respected,' - he kissed Feliks on the cheek – 'and loved. What more could you want?' Feliks smiled at that. Toris always made him feel better, unless he was teasing him about his dreadful maths skills. 'I wouldn't mind being rich as well.' he joked. Toris frowned a little. 'Yes, about that… Come through to the living room. We can order the pizza and then talk while we wait for it.'

As soon as they were on the couch and had ordered, Toris launched straight into his new strategy. 'I had a feeling this would happen, even without the repairs. Our choices are pretty stark. The easiest thing to do is put the prices up a bit.' Feliks opened his mouth to protest but Toris held up his hand, silencing him. 'I know, I know, things are expensive already. But we don't really have any other choices and if this proves successful, you can put the prices back down to normal and advertise it as a sale. Otherwise, unless some mysterious philanthropist leaves a million pounds on your doorstep, it's very unlikely that you'll recover in the normal run of things.' Feliks began to cry, the horrible reality sinking in. Until his meeting at the bank, the deadline had seemed like a distant threat, like a school project that was due in months. But now he realised just how close the end of the grace period was, and how far he was from meeting his target. He put his head on Toris's shoulder and Toris put his arm around him, not saying anything but nonetheless providing reassurance.

When the pizza arrived, Toris went to get it, then brought it back to the living room, an uncertain smile on his lips. 'Let's forget about business for now. There's bound to be something good on TV. You can choose.' Feliks picked up the remote and flicked idly through the channels until he found an old episode of Don't Tell the Bride. He flopped back onto the cushions, a contented grin on his face. Toris sat down beside him, somewhat less thrilled at the choice of programme. 'Why do you even watch this stuff?' he asked, pulling an exaggerated bored face. 'The dresses are really nice and it's really cute if she likes the wedding and funny if she doesn't.' Toris gave him a playful shove. 'You don't even wear dresses!' 'I sometimes wear a miniskirt when I'm at home,' Feliks admitted. 'And let me guess – it's pink.' Feliks giggled. 'You guessed wrong! It's blue. Blue is for boys.' 'And skirts are for girls,' Toris shot back. 'Now, how many slices do you want?'

The two had a very enjoyable evening together. Toris was so obviously bored by the programme that Feliks took pity on him and switched over to some romantic film instead, although he had seen it before and got his revenge on Toris by spoiling the end. 'Oh yeah, that guy, like, totally cheats on the girl with the brown hair but then the other guy dies so…' Toris attempted to cover his mouth but he was laughing at the same time and they ended up just cuddling and not thinking about having to change all the price tags in the morning. It was only when Feliks finally left that he began to worry about the day ahead. He was so preoccupied that he almost stepped on a most unusual envelope on his doormat. Somewhat confused, he picked it up. It didn't look like a demand for money, unless one of his creditors was in love with him, since it was pink and had his name and address embossed in gold. He opened it and quickly scanned the card inside and as he did so a slow smile awakened on his face. In his hands, he realised, he might just be holding his last chance.

In the morning, he arrived at the shop at the normal time and immediately set to work adding a few pounds to each of the labels and moving some items to the sale rack to assuage his guilt slightly. He felt a crackle of anticipation in his stomach as he waited for Toris to arrive so that he could show him the card that was their potential salvation. The moment he entered, Feliks ran up to him, waving the envelope in his face. 'Toris,' he began slowly. 'Yes?' 'You know what you said about the 'mystery philanthropist'?' Toris was confused – he clearly hadn't expected his facetious remark to be mentioned again. 'I remember.' 'Well, I think I've found him! This is from my old uni friend, Francis. He was in my class, although he's been a little more successful. And he's invited me – and a plus one, so you as well – to this party for the launch of his new summer collection. He's got some high fashion contacts, and I think that I might be able to get a catwalk show if I ask the right people at the party.'

Toris looked irritated. 'Well, if he's such a valuable resource, why didn't you contact him before and save us a lot of trouble?' he snapped. 'Well, maybe I was lying about the 'friend' part. I didn't actually like him very much and there was no way I'd ever expect to be invited to one of his parties but now that I have been, I have to take this chance. It could be my last. It is my last.' Mollified, Toris replied. 'Fair enough. But do I have to come with you? Fashionable parties aren't really my natural habitat.' Feliks cocked his head, considering. 'You don't have to come but I think it'll be fun. The food is always really nice, even if the people aren't. And if I go alone, I'll get hit on all evening.' Toris prodded his stomach. 'Are you really that desirable? In that case, I'll come just to make sure you don't do anything funny.' Feliks kissed his cheek. 'You know I never would.' Toris returned the kiss. 'I know, darling. I was joking.' He peered down at the invitation. 'And I do believe… Ah, yes. It's black tie. That means…' he whispered in Feliks's ear. 'You have to wear a suit.'

….

They heard the sound of an engine outside, followed by silence as it was cut and then the honk of the horn. 'Taxi's here!' Feliks called to Toris, who was in the bathroom trying to fix his hair. They had decided that they would both get ready at Toris's flat so that they could get a taxi together and save money, although Toris had also been useful in helping him tie his tie and fasten his cufflinks. 'Just a minute!' came the eventual reply. Feliks sighed impatiently. 'It's here, like, now!' he protested. Toris emerged from the bathroom muttering protests about how he had so nearly got it right, but stopped dead when he saw Feliks. 'You look amazing! You should wear a suit every day!' Feliks blushed. 'You too.' he replied, shyly tucking a lock of hair behind his ear as he often did when he was excited. They shared a quick kiss then headed out to the waiting taxi.

The albino driver was very chatty and scarcely gave them a moment to themselves all journey. He was in the middle of telling a very long story about how he had once got so 'awesomely' drunk that he'd passed out in the middle of the dancefloor when they arrived at the hotel where the party was being held. The meter read precisely £10 and he pointed it out to them. 'Kesesese! That's an awesomely perfect number!' Toris insisted on paying and added a £2 tip 'for the entertainment' and then climbed out, joining Feliks on the kerb. He took his hand, a little apprehensive about meeting the fashionable people he only knew about from Feliks's stories, and the two walked inside.

Francis seemed to greeting everyone as they came in, and hurried over to Feliks and Toris as soon as they arrived. He kissed them both on the cheeks, in the French style, and Feliks had to stifle a laugh at Toris's stunned face. He was just as fabulous as he remembered him. 'Feliks! It's been so long since we were project buddies on that wedding dress thing! Remember that time when we ran out of ribbon so we stole some with th pan?' He pretended to wipe away a tear. 'Those were the days… Oh, and I see you've found love at last!' Toris, unused to being noticed, blushed the darkest shade of red Feliks had ever seen. 'Yes, this is Torisam.' Francis laughed, a rather creepy sound. 'Ah, he is very pretty, _non_? But of course that is why you fell in love with him! Excuse me please…' He drifted off to talk to some new arrivals. Toris tapped Feliks's shoulder. 'I don't like him.' he said under his breath. Feliks nodded grimly. 'I know, I don't either. He's always been this way but tonight's a means to an end. So just try to survive, ok?' At that moment, the hotel manager appeared to announce that dinner was about to be served in the main dining room and all the guests began to move in the direction that he indicated.

Feliks found himself sitting with Toris on one side of him, a rather dull stylist on the other and a very promising prospect – a magazine editor – opposite him. As they ate, the wine and conversation began to flow and Feliks soon began chatting to her. She introduced herself as Elizaveta and explained that she was currently planning a show to drum up publicity. Feliks felt his heart beat faster. 'Really? What sort of designs are you going to show?' She took a sip of her wine. 'No-one specific. I'd like some up-and-coming young designers there, since the magazine is all about new talent. You're a designer, aren't you?' _YES! _his inner voice screamed. 'I am, yes,' he said aloud. She was interested. 'I'm struggling a bit to fill all the slots. Would you maybe be interested in exhibiting?' Feliks tried not to squeal. 'I would. I've been looking to get a bit more exposure.' She smiled and rummaged in her handbag, eventually extracting a business card and handing it to him. 'You can email me a few of you designs and I'll see if I like them. You'll need to do it tomorrow, though – the show's in two weeks and I need to get everything organised.' Feliks thanked her profusely, unable to believed his good luck and reminding himself that nothing had yet been confirmed. The conversation over, she turned to talk to the person next to her and he turned to Toris.

Toris was not having a very good time, sitting staring at his plate with no-one talking to him. Feliks nudged him and he looked up. 'Hey Toris. Guess what.' Toris looked at him wearily. 'What?' 'I was just talking to that woman there. She's putting on a fashion show in a couple of weeks and wants me to send her some of my designs. I might get in the show. If I do, we'll be saved!' Toris's tired face broke into a broad smile. 'That's amazing! You were right when you said coming here would be worth it!' He reached for Feliks's hand under the table and gave it a quick squeeze. 'Now, please talk to me! I'm lonely.' Feliks smiled. 'Ok. Let's talk about what we'll buy when we're rich.' Toris laughed and grabbed his hand again, keeping hold this time as they each wondered what could possibly be added to such a wonderful evening.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: This is unfortunately going to be the last chapter, but it's an extra-long one and I promise that there's going to be a happy ending! This chapter was partly inspired by Captain Awesomesauce's suggestion that something bad should happen at the party, so credit to her for that! **

…..

The party was almost over. The meal had finished and now people were dancing or just chatting. Feliks had said nothing more to Elizaveta but she had caught his eye and smiled a few times, reassuring him that their conversation had not just taken place in his imagination. For the moment, he was standing with Toris, talking about some computer game that Eduard had designed. 'It's amazing,' Toris enthused. 'And this company's got hold of it. They're interested in getting him to work for them full-time!' Feliks was genuinely happy to hear the news and was about to reply when the music suddenly changed to a slow waltz. Toris extended his hand and said, with mock formality, 'May I have this dance?' Feliks giggled and curtseyed jokingly. 'You may.' Toris smiled and led him to the dancefloor, where several other couples were already rotating in a stately fashion.

Feliks remembered, a little too late, that he was a terrible dancer, but Toris seemed to have a talent for it and easily took the lead, guiding his less graceful partner through the steps. Feliks found that he liked the simple movements and the gentle pressure of Toris's hand at his waist as they twirled. The blissful dance was interrupted for a moment when someone brushed quite roughly against Toris, causing him to miss a few beats but they soon fell back into the strict rhythm until the end of the piece. The next dance was quite lively and they laughingly vacated the floor to allow more accomplished couples to take their turn. About halfway through the dance, they saw a man go up to the manager and whisper in his ear. They watched with interest as his expression grew progressively more serious as he listened to the message. When it was finished, he turned and said something to the man and then walked over to the conductor of the small orchestra. He said something to him and then the conductor made a gesture that made all the musicians abruptly stop playing. The manager then climbed up onto the small stage and signalled for everyone's attention.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' he began, once everyone was silent. 'I'm afraid that we've just received a report of the theft of a mobile phone from one of the guests. The victim of this theft has agreed that if it is returned within fifteen minutes, nothing more will be said on the matter. If not, we will have to search each one of you in order to recover it. I am very sorry for the inconvenience.' The manager, a quiet Japanese man, seemed profoundly uncomfortable at having to impart the unwelcome news. A babble rose among the assembled partygoers as they speculated as to whose phone it might be. 'They must be pretty famous if there's this much fuss.' Feliks muttered to Toris, who nodded his agreement. The fifteen minutes passed painfully slowly, the unrest increasing with every moment as it became clearer and clearer that the phone wasn't going to be returned. There were a few angry conversations going on among people who enjoyed sharing the indignation of having to be searched.

When the time was up, two more people climbed onto the stage. Feliks recognised them immediately. The first was the famous model, Lovino Vargas, who had an unfortunate reputation for being a bit of a diva and the second was his Spanish boyfriend, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a celebrity nutritionist who had invented the 'Tomato Diet'. Feliks realised with a sinking feeling that Lovino must have been the victim of the theft. A phone like that was priceless – full of private messages, contacts, photos; an absolute goldmine for any marauding gossip columnist. He looked up as the furious Italian seized the microphone from the manager. 'Ok people, I know one of you has my phone and no-one's leaving until I get it back. I don't want to get the police involved because I seriously don't have time for a court case right now but you can be pretty sure that whoever took my phone will find their career over pretty quickly. Security guard, begin the search!' With that, he strode off the stage, shrugging off Antonio's comforting arm as he went.

At Lovino's command, the guard began to corral people into a more or less orderly group and started the inspection. He was quick but efficient – men had to remove their jackets and empty their pockets, women empty their handbags and somehow prove that nothing was hidden inside their dresses. Feliks was impatient to leave so he could start putting together his photo collection for Elizaveta and was glad that the line was moving at a reasonable rate. His turn, when it came, was over within a few seconds as Lovino confirmed that the Feliks's phone was indeed his own and not stolen from him. He stepped away from the inspection area, fully expecting Toris to join him within a minute or two, when the cry went up.

'That's the one!' Lovino yelled, triumphantly holding his phone aloft. Feliks turned around and saw, to his horror and confusion, that it was Toris from whom the phone had been recovered. Toris was completely bewildered. 'I didn't take it, I swear! Someone must have slipped it into my pocket when I wasn't looking.' The guard looked sceptical. 'That's what they all say.' he replied curtly, in a strong Swiss accent. Feliks stepped forward. 'He's telling the truth,' he said boldly, trying to defend Toris. 'He's been with me all evening. I haven't lost sight of him for a moment.' Lovino sneered at him. 'I don't believe a word you're saying and I don't believe your pathetic, snivelling little boyfriend either. Unless someone can prove he's not responsible, you can say goodbye to that magazine show.' He paused to savour Feliks's reaction. 'What, didn't you know I was going to be there?'

Suddenly, Toris gasped, as a memory suddenly came back to him. 'Wait!' he cried out. 'I remember now. Someone knocked into me a while ago when we were dancing. They must have slipped it into my pocket then.' Lovino raised a disbelieving eyebrow, a look on his face that made Feliks want to pull his stupid sticking-out curl, the one that people said was 'cute', extremely hard. Toris was shaking and looked about to faint. His face was completely white and his eyes were wide with fear. Feliks desperately wanted to put his arms around him but held back, knowing that that would not help anything. The security guard stepped in, seeming to want to maintain a semblance of professionalism in the discussion. 'Did anyone else see you getting pushed?' he asked, although he still sounded sceptical. Toris shrugged helplessly. 'I don't know. It's not the sort of thing you notice at the time. Feliks was there, but I suppose his testimony is pretty much worthless.' The guard nodded grimly. 'I'll make an announcement.' he said, heading for the stage.

'Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your patience and I am pleased to announce that the phone has been found. However, the man who had it claims that he was set up. If anyone saw him' – he indicated Toris – 'being pushed or banged into earlier, please speak up now.' Feliks reached for his hand and held on tightly, trying to send all his strength and love through the connection. People were talking, apparently divided into two camps: those who believed Toris and those who didn't. After a couple of minutes, the conductor of the orchestra eventually spoke up. 'I didn't see anyone bang into him,' he conceded, 'but I noticed that he seemed a bit off-balance, like he had been hit, at one point during the dance.' The security guard scowled at him. 'That's pretty scant evidence, Roderich,' he said, sounding irritated. 'I'm only trying to help.' was the conductor's diffident response. Lovino, however, had seized upon this new gem of information, although he was just as hostile as ever when he turned to Toris. 'Do you know who it was that supposedly set you up?' he demanded.

Toris frowned, trying to remember an event that he had dismissed at the time. 'Well, it was definitely a man. Quite tall, I think, taller than me. And I think he had brown hair.' Lovino laughed harshly. 'That could be me! That could be about half the men here. Conveniently vague description, isn't it?' he teased. Antonio, however, seemed to have had enough of his boyfriend's bratty behaviour. 'Lovi, you got your phone back and that's the important thing. I believe this man and I don't think we'll catch who really did it, so let's just stop here.' Lovino glared at him, but Antonio didn't flinch. Finally, he gave a dismissive flick of his wrist and said, 'Fine, I don't care. I just want to go home.' Antonio beamed at him. 'That's the spirit, _mi tomate_!' Lovino crossed his arms. 'I hope all your tomatoes die.' he muttered darkly, but Antonio just laughed in a way that suggested he got this casual verbal abuse all the time.

Toris looked immensely relieved. 'So can we all go home now?' someone in the crowd asked. The manager took to the stage for the last time to apologise to everyone, especially Toris, and say they could indeed go home now. Happy that the ordeal was over, he and Feliks walked outside to where their taxi was waiting. When they got in, the driver looked at his watch. 'Kesesese! You're pretty late. Did you get drunk on the awesome wine or something?' Toris sighed wearily. 'Actually, the place went into lockdown when a phone got stolen and I was set up and accused of taking it myself.' The driver was silent for a moment but then recovered his bravado. 'That reminds me of this one time me and my brother went to the Oktoberfest and when we woke up, our tent was gone and we were just lying on the ground. Or that other time when I tried to climb a tree when I was drunk and…' Feliks didn't hear the rest because his mind was drifting far away, into a place full of catwalk shows and magazine editors, a magical place full of potential.

…

It was the evening of the show. Feliks's designs had been enthusiastically accepted by Elizaveta, who was amazed at his skills, and now was his chance to not only save his business but also to make it known and admired. To his relief, the event did not necessitate wearing a suit – instead, it was a chance to show off his own designs. Right now, he was waiting anxiously for Toris to arrive, since they were preparing at his flat. They had booked a taxi again, and had a feeling that they would get the same driver as before.

When Toris knocked at the door half an hour before the taxi was due to arrive, Feliks felt his heart jump several inches. He'd let Toris pick out the clothes himself and hoped desperately that they would look good on him. Then again, Toris would look amazing in anything, he thought. He opened the door and looked, liking what he saw. Toris's outfit suited him perfectly, the black jeans and open-necked white shirt providing a neutral base for a dark green velvet jacket that matched his eyes. Toris smiled at him shyly then, from behind his back, produced a single white rose. 'To celebrate your success.' he explained, before pulling Feliks into a tight embrace. Feliks rested his head against Toris's chest, breathing in the sharp, citrus scent of his shower gel. 'Thank you,' he whispered, enjoying the closeness. After a moment, Toris kissed the top of his head and released him. 'Shall we get ready then?' he asked. 'I promise not to be fixing my hair when the taxi comes this time.' Feliks laughed and pulled him close again and then they went inside.

'… And that's why I can never go back to H&M.' The driver concluded yet another of his 'awesome' stories with a 'kesesese' laugh. Feliks's hunch had been right – they had got the same driver again and they were getting to know him quite well. 'It seems that you drink in every spare moment you get,' Toris commented with an air of faint amusement. 'Yeah,' the driver admitted. 'But not when I'm driving. Don't drink and drive, kids! Kesesese!' Feliks looked down at his watch as the other two continued to chat. They were on time, but the hours seemed to be flying by with disconcerting speed. He was excited but also terrified and sincerely glad that the rest of Toris's family would be there, kitted out from top to toe in House of Feliks, to offer their support. Eventually, and too soon as far as Feliks was concerned, they pulled up at the venue. The meter said £12, and the driver complained that it was an 'un-awesome' number. Handing over the money, Toris couldn't resist commenting on the fact that, since it had a lot of factors, 12 was actually pretty 'awesome'.

When they got inside, the family had not yet arrived so they milled around as they waited for the event to begin. Elizaveta came up to them and began to praise Feliks extravagantly. 'You have such a talent! The big fashion houses will be all over you!' As she walked away, she grabbed Toris by the arm and said in a stage whisper, 'Your boyfriend is a little treasure. Hold onto him.' Toris blushed slightly and watched her walk away with confusion written all over his face. At that moment, the family came through the door and immediately made a beeline for the couple. Feliks found himself being hugged tightly by Ivan, Katyusha and Natalya in quick succession. Eduard and Raivis held back but both smiled timidly. 'You all look really good,' said Feliks, feeling slightly big-headed, since they were wearing his designs. Katyusha flicked the skirt of her sky-blue dress. 'Well, we all know who to thank for that!' she replied, playfully pinching Feliks's cheek.

They stood and chatted for a few minutes until it was announced that the show was about to begin and they went through to the auditorium. Toris sat with Feliks in the front row while the rest of the family piled into the back. Raivis was excited rather than terrified for once and Ivan had confiscated Eduard's iPod to make him pay attention. Everyone was in high spirits but a hush fell as Elizaveta stood up to address the crowd. 'Good evening everyone, and thank you for coming. Tonight, we'll be celebrating some of the best young designers working today, with their creations worn by some of the most famous models of the decade. I hope you enjoy the show.' As she sat down, the lights were dimmed and the curtains at the end of the catwalk began to open slowly. Toris took Feliks's hand. 'I'm so proud of you,' he whispered as the first models appeared.

Elizaveta had wanted an impressive ending to the show and so she had put Feliks's designs on last. He and Toris watched with mounting anxiety as others' work was paraded and applauded. Halfway through, Lovino appeared, dressed in a long black coat and red trousers with black boots. His impressively sculpted chest had been left bare but he still wore his customary scowl, peering out from behind his floppy brown hair. Feliks and Toris shared a look and Feliks couldn't help noting that the curl was still sticking and he still wanted to give it a good, hard tug just to see what would happen if he did. He attracted a few admiring smiles from members of the audience but Feliks failed to understand the appeal. He much preferred Toris's gentle smile and shy beauty to Lovino's almost aggressive posturing.

When Feliks's first design appeared, a cheer rose from where the family were sitting and others soon joined in with appreciative applause. Toris squeezed his hand harder and the two sat in silence, transfixed by the display. The last outfit of the show, a mint green dress embellished with handmade roses of raspberry silk that had taken Feliks hours to design, was met with rapturous acclaim. The model struck several poses, showing the dress from every angle, and Feliks felt like he would die of happiness. He had never received such lavish praise for any of his work before and kept expecting to wake up any moment. Four months ago, he would never have believed that he would be holding hands with Toris in the front row of his own fashion show. It defied all description.

After the show, Feliks was surrounded by Toris's family, all babbling at once about how wonderful the show had been. 'If you don't become the most sought-after designer in the country, I'll want to know why.' Ivan said encouragingly. People kept coming up to Feliks and congratulating him on a wonderful show but about half an hour after the end, a short, slim and rather effeminate Chinese man went up to Feliks, who knew exactly who he was. 'Oh my God! You're Yao Wang. I studied your designs at university. You're, like, one of my fashion heroes!' The man smiled. 'That's very nice of you. I like your designs too. I like them so much that I want to sell your designs in some of my shops. There'd be a good bit of money in it for you, obviously.'

Feliks was absolutely speechless. 'Really? That's brilliant! Thank you so much!' He managed to say. His heart was racing. He was saved, his shop was saved. It was all too much to take in. 'I particularly liked that dress,' Yao continued. 'It had the mark of a uniquely talented designer. There are a lot of less gifted designers who try to shock with things they think are controversial, but you don't do that. You please the mind and the eye with things that are beautiful, and that's a far better strategy. I would be honoured to work with you.'

Later that night, when Toris was preparing to go home, he held Feliks tightly. Feliks looked up at him, feeling like he would burst with joy. 'We did it! We really did it!' was all he could say. 'No thanks to me,' Toris said, stroking his hair. 'It was your designs that got you noticed, not my business advice.' Feliks shook his head. 'You've helped me in so many other ways. I was so lonely before I met you. I didn't have any friends and I was permanently single. When I first met you, I was shy. I didn't know how to do things because I'd never been close to anyone before. You made me feel good about being myself and you just accepted me completely. You made me feel part of your family. And your business advice was very useful too.' Toris laughed and pulled him even closer. 'I love you so much,' he said. 'I feel so lucky to have found you and now that I have I'll never let myself lose you.' He bent to kiss Feliks, who returned it with just as much passion.

When they finally broke apart, their eyes shining with the joy of love, Toris laughed softly and raised a hand to his tingling lips. 'Well,' he said slowly. 'I suppose we can pretty safely say that it's not a professional relationship anymore.'


End file.
